


A Court of Light and Shadows

by Illyrian_Nights



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-02-27 12:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13248237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illyrian_Nights/pseuds/Illyrian_Nights
Summary: lmfao i don't know what I'm doing





	1. Chapter 1

         The oddest thing about the silent sunlit villa was that it had not changed in the fifty-odd years since the day its occupants had fled. The world had gone to hell. Twice. People had been stripped of their property, homes, family, lives but here was the villa. Precisely the same.The golden lattice of oriel windows cut the sunlight into beautiful, geometric pieces that shimmered across the tiled floor. Surprising. The floors had remained clean. Not a mote of dust or dirt obscured the stunning cerulean, gold and white tiles. The redolent scent of cinnamon and rhondinium hung heavy in the entry, a stinging reminder of days past. Low cream-colored divans divided the entry from the living room, padded by plush pillows and blankets. A velvet ottoman was barely visible underneath a mountain of books and papers, still open to to whatever pages were being read when news that the capital was sacked clattered through the front door. That door still swung wide, though it was now held open by a different, more gentle hand.  
       

         The female it belonged to stood immobile, spellbound by the unchanging nature of the home. Fifty years. In fifty years she had evolved, unraveled, broken and reformed but this house... this house was a perfect preservation of memories she had nearly forgotten. In the golden reflection of light off the floor, the female’s striking amber eyes were illuminated as if they were twin suns in a sky of honey-brown skin and cinnamon freckles. The soft panes of her face were tightened by the indecipherable emotion that held her so still. Another hand, the same honey-brown hue, startled the female by smoothing her mane of thick, curly hair.

         “Thea.” The figure turned back to her mother, having forgotten she was not alone. With an inward sigh, Thea looked again to the home and walked inside. 

  
         “It’s the same.”Her words sounded like an accusation.

  
         “No one has touched it since your father and brother fled.” Thessalia followed her daughter into the entryway. “Amarantha, fortunately, did not deem us important enough to ransack our home.”

  
         “Yet, important enough to murder father and Thaldur.” 

  
         “Th-” The older female’s voice caught and she pressed a hand to her mouth, trembling slightly. Thea made no move to comfort her, instead, opting to venture further into the villa. Gliding over to the room, she stroked a soft gold blanket strewn haphazardly over a divan. Curious, she leaned forward and sniffed it. It still smelled like aromatic wood; the perfume of her father.

  
         She sat down and pulled one of the open books onto her lap, fingering the page so gentle like any wrong move might tear it. The leather binding was cool and smooth to the touch. Nostalgia wrenched Thea’s bruised heart. In an effort to keep the pain at bay, she tried to read the sentences but found she couldn’t make out the words. She blinked and tried to read the page again before realizing her vision was too blurry to read anything. A tear slid down her face and hit the page, distorting one of the words.

  
        Thea quickly closed the book and gently set it on the table. She rose from the divan and slipped into an adjacent hallway to avoid her mother’s misty eyes. Leaning against the wall, she slipped off her sandals and felt the cool tile on her feet. The sensation of the cold floor grounded Thea and she focused on the pleasant coolness that numbed her cracked soles.

  
        Thessalia would weep for the condition of Thea’s dulled, ashy skin. At least, the Thessalia that Thea knew before Amarantha terrorized the land and murdered hundreds without hesitation. The woman that had found her daughter in Vallahan was far different than the woman who raised her. Something had faded in her mother, had become subdued. Thea could see it from the moment the door opened in that dim Vallahan tavern. Thessalia’s eyes were muted and no longer shone with the apical gleam she had been known for.

  
        Pushing herself against the wall, she summoned the will to walk down the hall to a door on the left. Afternoon light flooded the dark hallway as Thea pushed open the silent door. Taking a step into the light, she sagged slightly, relieved that the library had not been sacked. All of the precious books sat on their shelves patiently, as if waiting for Thea to come home. Eyes wide and lips parted in reverence, she crossed the marble floor and reached out a hand to nearest shelf. Cold like the tile. Her hands glided across the leather and cloth spines, feeling every engraved, tooled title, savoring the soothing textures on her roughened palm.

  
       Her hands were far more calloused than the last time she had been in this room. The thought of younger, softer hands stilled Thea. Fifty years in that land had transformed her. No-had broken her. Had choked the naivety and childlike predilections from her. The hands of thoughtless males could do that. Apparently, female hands as well- if Amarantha’s reign of terror was any indication. The rumors of atrocities committed in Prythian were sickening. Even Herrod had- _Herrod_. Something tightened in Thea’s chest and she clutched at her chest. Head beginning to spin, her heart jumped as if electrocuted. A sense of terror seized her entire body and her breaths became short, rapid.

  
_Stop thinking_ , Thea closed her eyes. _Breathe. Good. Again. Open your eyes and move on._

  
      The whisper of a door snapped her stupor and Thea twisted around to see Thessalia standing in the doorway.

  
      “How are you doing?” The question hung in the air, both fae wincing at its inadequacy. Neither mother nor daughter could meet the other’s gaze.

  
      “I am alive and I am home.” Came the slow reply. Thessalia hesitated for a moment, unspoken questions on her tongue. “For now, that is all I can ask for.” Thea finished quickly, a tone of finality ending the conversation before it could start. Her mother’s blue eyes gazed wearily, as this pattern of conversation had become commonplace over the past few days. The lady’s shoulders sagged, heavy with the weight of fifty long years.

  
      “I’ll be in my room.” The door shut softly.

  
      Thea turned back to the books. She didn’t know why she was so reserved with her mother. Cauldron knew the promises Thea made to the gods all those years if only to see her family again. And here her mother was, broken but healthy, and Thea couldn’t even touch her. An overwhelming mix of rage and paralysis broke through her heart, tears stinging her eyes. All those years. All that wanting to escape only to come home and still feel like a prisoner in her own body. To still feel dirty.

       An urge to bathe escorted her to the door and down the hall to her old bathroom. Passing her mother’s room, she hesitated. Through the cracked doorway, Thea could see her mother staring at the portrait of her and Thea’s father. Thessalia’s eyes were pained and her lips trembled as she gazed upon her late husband. Lord Shaams had been a robust presence and the painting reflected his straight back, strong arms and wide smile. Not that Thea had ever been on the receiving end of it. Thessalia touched the painting longingly and something dislodged in Thea’s heart. Biting down on the sweep of wistfulness that seeped from her aching heart, Thea backed away from the door. She ventured further into the villa until her hand rested on the handle of the bathroom door. A wave of resentment battered her heart. Resentment, hurt, anger. It had battered her for so long, turned her heart heavy and cumbersome.

  
     Thea turned the handle and stepped forward, inhaling the warm wave of cinnamon and bath oils that curled around her. The familiarity of the sensation tightened her gut and she leaned against the door, eyes closed. It was a moment before she opened them, walking toward the wonderfully large bath and turning on the faucet.  
Minutes later, her clothes lay in a pile on the floor as steam fogged the room. Thea’s tightly coiled hair curled down her back, volume augmented by the humidity. Thin rivulets of sweat ran down her dewy face and the tightness around her eyes dissolved in the tranquilizing heat. Relief dripped from Thea’s head to her shoulders to her back down to her feet. She took a deep breath for the first time in fifty years.

* * *

  
     Thea and Thessalia avoided each other for the first week. A simple, “Morning,” and “Good night,” each day had been sufficient for both. They had always been less-than-inclined to share unnecessary conversation with each other but now, with fifty years between them, even those few words a day were too much. Perhaps Thessalia noticed the barely-repressed anger that rippled off of her daughter. Despite the silence, Thea spotted the changes in her mother almost instantly.

     This Thessalia was quieter than the cutting, compelling fae Thea had grown up under. Her mother had always been quick to stop Thea from being anything but silent and unseen. Requests to play outside or meet other Day Court children was met with an anxious denial and her own request that Thea read quietly in the library. That mother had been vivacious and brazen around others, but uneasy and tight-lipped around her daughter. Once, the silence had wounded Thea’s young heart but so many things had changed. Now, neither knew what to say or expect from the other; so both sufficed for silence.

     Until the day one of Helion’s stewards winnowed to their doorstep. A sharp knock had Thea spilling her coffee on her chest.

     “Motherf-” She managed to get out the first two syllables before Thessalia hissed a warning as she quickly strode down the hallway to open the door. Thea nearly retorted another foul word before recognizing the alarm on her mother’s face as she turned the knob, facing the steward. She had not seen that look for a long time. What was it about the Day Court that frightened Thessalia so much? Helion had godlike power but was not known to be cruel to his own people. Instead, he was known to love his people quite liberally-opting for the intimate setting of his bedroom to become better acquainted with his citizens.

     She often thought that this was the reason Thessalia had practically hid Thea from the world-that Helion might take too much interest in her daughter than Thea was comfortable with. Once, Thea was curious about such things but Vallahan had exhausted her of all such inclinations.

     The steward was saying something about a court session to be held in a fortnight. For the first time for a very long time, Thea felt curious. Conversely, Thessalia looked like a rat in a trap. She was blocking the steward from entering the frame.

     “I’m afraid my daughter and I will be unable to attend. Thea-” Mother looked to daughter hesitantly, “Thea and I are recovering from our journey from the continent.”

     “You believe that two weeks is an insufficient amount of time to rest?” The steward narrowed her brows and tilted her head. Thea saw this as a moment to intercede. She rose from the divan and glanced at her mother.

     “I think that’ll be just fine. Right?” The set of Thessalia’s jaw told a different story.

     “I don’t think that-” She tried again before the steward interrupted her.

     “Perhaps a personal visit from High Lord Helion would be better.” The steward was trying to help but Thessalia only went whiter.

     “No! No, I, uh- no.” Thessalia elegantly smoothed her brow and smiled tightly. “It seems that Thea will be well recovered by then. I look forward to court. Thank you.” She started to close the door but the steward put a hand out, concern written plainly on her face.

     “Lady Thessalia. I hope I’m not out of turn by saying this but Lord Helion wanted you there specifically. What happened with your husband and son, it-” She swallowed and peered at the lady intently, “Lord Shaam has been greatly missed these years. He’d like to grieve with you.” At this Thessalia hand dropped from the door to her heart. “And to meet your daughter. He knows that these past fifty years has been especially painful for your family. There are items on the agenda he looks forward to addressing.” The steward drew back from the doorway and gave them a small smile, “Take care, miladies.” She winnowed out of sight.

     Thea looked to her mother, who was staring blankly at the spot the steward had occupied. She was breathing heavily. Tentatively, Thea touched her elbow.

     “Is everything… okay?” She hated the last word. It meant one thing but everyone used it to mean another. Thessalia slowly looked at her daughter and thought for one long moment. She glanced down, face long and sunken.

     “It will be the first time that I go to court without your father.” When she glanced back up, her blue eyes were shining. There was hesitation on her lips but she clamped it down and shut the door behind her.  
For the first time since watching her walk into the Vallahan tavern, Thea hugged her mother. Thessalia put a thin arm around her daughter. It was uncomfortable and awkward but Thea only held tighter.

    “I’m sorry, Thessalia.” She whispered into her mother’s black, coiled hair before untangling herself and backing away.

    Turning toward the library, she heard her mother whisper, barely audible.

    “I’m so sorry for everything, Thea.”

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm at work for the next 7 hours so I'll be posting a shit ton

      The weeks leading up to court had seen Thessalia sitting in silence, ruminating in whatever thought dominated her mind. Thea, on the other hand, had found a small joy in looking forward to something. She found herself wondering what court would be like and what Helion had in store for them all. He had held court after Amarantha, of course, but she had been in Vallahan. Her mother had immediately left Under the Mountain the moment the red-haired witch had been slaughtered, running to Vallahan to find her daughter where she had left her. Upon discovering that Thea was no longer in Roda, a port town, Thessalia had spent months searching the continent for any sign of where Thea had gone. As a result, Thessalia had missed Hybern’s invasion completely. Nearly a month after the Night Court decimated the King and his soldiers, Thessalia and Thea had returned to a newly re-ordered Prythian.

       It was no wonder Lord Helion had an extensive agenda to address; there was a world to rebuild. The thought sparked something within Thea, had made its way through murky despondency to the small brightness that managed to survive Vallahan. Perhaps in this new world, there would be a place for Thea. 

      Despite Thessalia’s reservations to even go to court, she still expected to both she and Thea to look like nobility. The morning of, she called Thea into her room. When Thea entered she noticed an array of dresses on the bed. Fifty years ago, she had enjoyed feeling beautiful. Now, the thought of drawing anyone’s attention sickened her, made her feel bare. However, this seemed to be the only thing that her mother was enthusiastic about. Thea would give her mother this. So she sat on the bed as her mother quietly fussed over which gown she should wear, what makeup would suit her complexion and how she should do her hair.

      A long time later, Thea peered into the mirror and her heart sank. She looked radiant. Thessalia had chosen a soft peach dress with sheer overlay to complement to her warm skin. An intricately-carved torque of gold covered her neck with matching adornments in her black halo of hair. Thessalia had rimmed her amber eyes with black kohl and shimmering gold dust. Her lips were dark and full against her glowing brown skin. Her mother had covered her freckles completely. Thea stood shaking in front of the mirror, hands itching to wipe the mask away. She wished, for the first time, that she could stay home.

      “Ready?” Thea looked at her mother’s reflection in the mirror. Thessalia was wearing a halter gown of gleaming white, hair pulled back from her sharp, intelligent face with gold loops. Her dark blue eyes stood out against it all, waiting for Thea to give her an answer. Thea nodded and turned to face her mother.

      “Then let's go." 

* * *

 

       The Day Court long considered their capital to be a wonder of the world. White minarets rose above enormous domed buildings. Villas and open-aired markets dotted the space between the libraries, cafes, and courtyards. Inside the courtyards, fountains that ran four directions spread towards vaulted halls carved with stalactite patterns. Delicate blue and gold crenellations framed high doorways and curled around oculus ceilings. Thea passed one particular library with colorful mosaic windows and stopped in awe. Thessalia stopped next to her daughter and smiled slightly.

       “You should see the inside.” Thea looked at her curiously. Something like romance entered into her voice as she continued, “There are similar sunken windows in the ceiling depicting the Hizir Afsan and when the noon sun hits, the entire library becomes lit with a thousand colors. Your father’s journals of work are archived here. It was his favorite place in this city.” She looked at her daughter and blinked. “Come, the capitol building is close.” She took Thea’s hand and gently pulled her away.

       Thoughts roiled through Thea’s mind about her father. Not only had he been charming and bold but the lord had been incredibly brilliant. Lord Helion had often relied upon his own research into curse-breaking. For a long time, he had not only been his closest friend but his trusted advisor. It was one of the reasons Amarantha took such vicious delight in killing him. Thea remembered her mother’s pained face as she related the story on their way out of Vallahan. Nearly thirty years into her reign, it was discovered that Day Court scholars had been working on a way to break Amarantha’s hold on the High Lords. The witch had ordered the court’s brightest scholars to be publicly executed as a show of the cruelty she was capable of. Lord Shaams and his son, Thaldur, had been among them. The method of execution was brutal: High Lord Rhysand of the Night Court obliterated each of their minds.

       According to Thessalia, Shaams had been the last to die-forced to watch his friends, colleagues, and then son to die before him. When asked why she was left alive, her mother merely shook her head and shrugged. Thea was left with too many questions for a silent mother to answer. Thea’s thoughts were interrupted by the tightening of Thessalia’s hand; they were here.

       The capitol building was the brightest building yet, prefaced with impossibly white stones and gold inlays. It opened with a large courtyard-currently filled with Day Court high fae. Three iwans faced the center fountain, their vaulted ceilings coated with stunning tiles painted to look like flowers. Pink bougainvillea climbed up the outside walls and delicately draped against the white stones. For a moment, Thea was struck by the bright sheen of it all and dropped her mother’s hand. The nobility were dressed in finery similar to her mother’s and lesser fae milled around, serving tea and coffee.

        _Lesser fae_ , Thea thought derisively. Even the term was derogatory. _By now we should have realized there is no such thing. After everything, how has this institution survived_. Even fae in Vallahan had commented on the twisted hierarchies of Prythian. It was something Thea hoped Lord Helion would address today.

      “Lady Thessalia,” The steward from a fortnight ago materialized from the crowd. “Lord Helion has requested to receive you early, before the session starts.” Thea took the moment to study the female. She had the strong cheekbones and jaw common in Day Court fae, well-shaped eyebrows and black eyes. The female’s fiercely curly hair reminded Thea of her own, save it was colored a deep red. At least, Thea surmised it was colored. Not many fae in this court had lighter-colored hair. 

      “Thea?” Her mother asked, intoning that this was, in fact, a repeated question.

      “Hm?” Color rose to her cheeks as Thea realized she had missed whatever had been said.

      “I asked if you were ready to go inside with Fas.” Thessalia elegantly gestured towards the steward.

      “Of course.”

      Fas, the steward, lead the females into a hall off of the courtyard. With every step, anxiety coursed through the younger female’s veins. She barely noticed the windows in the hallway were flooded with creeping flowers and sunlight. The thought of High Lord Helion had made her curious before but now she worried. Most of her life had been in Vallahan, ironically enough. At seventy-five, Thea had only lived in Prythian for the first twenty-five years and she felt like a stranger here. People only knew her father, mother and brother. She was nobody to them. Did High Lord Helion know where she had been living and what she had been doing? Would he be ashamed of it? The moment her mother had opened the tavern door and their eyes met, an understanding issued between them. It had not been shame that shone in Thessalia’s eyes but icy guilt.

      A breeze picked up through the corridor and the scent of jasmine soothed Thea’s pounding heart. Her mother took her hand again and smoothly drew her closer. To all the world, Thessalia looked cool and at ease but the dampness of her palm told a different story. Finally, Fas stopped them at a wooden door inlaid with mother-of-pearl. She opened the door and led them inside.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bless you if you're still reading this

      The room was darker than that of any Day Court building. Either that, or the group of fae standing therein seemed to emanate their own shadows. After two beats, Thea decided it was the latter.

      An impressive male with dark complexion dressed in white stood in front of the group, glowing brightly and grinning. They were an impressive group though there were three-no, four- of them. Three winged males and one female. Thea almost didn’t notice the third male for he was nearly hidden in the shadows. Though darkness obscured his face, there was something, perhaps, familiar about him. She eyed him for a long moment before turning to the male in white as he opened his mouth to speak.

      “Lady Thessalia, it’s been too long.” High Lord Helion, for only a High Lord could glow like that, seemed to have a penchant for the sensual as he grinned at Thessalia. But Thessalia only had eyes for the strikingly handsome male in the middle beyond Helion.

      “ _You._ ” A hiss ripped from her throat and an apical gleam slid into her eyes. Unease shot into Thea’s heart. Her mother seemed like an entirely new creature, contrived of pure hostility and malice. The two other males moved towards Thessalia but it was the female who stepped in front. Her eyes narrowed in warning and the beginning of a snarl reached the corner of her lips.

      Helion seemed to be enjoying the small spectacle and seemed inclined to watch until a thought slid across his face.

      “A lot has happened since you left for Vallahan, Tess-”

      “Don’t you _dare_ call me that in front of my husband’s murderer and Amarantha’s _whore_.”

 _Rhysand. This is Rhysand, High Lord of the Court of Nightmares_ . And the female now snarling at Thea’s mother- _Feyre Cursebreaker._ Thea’s mind went completely blank. Rumors had torn through the tavern about the fae female with a human heart. A fae that had been _made_.

      News had arrived that Amarantha had spun some sort of trap for this Feyre. That she had broken the curse that chained the High Lords. Thea could believe it as she felt an other worldly-power pulse from her. The name Feyre Cursebreaker had been Thea’s salvation from the moment she heard the news. Feyre’s name meant that, there was a chance that someone would come looking for Thea and bring her home. Rhysand slid his hand into Feyre’s and another thread connected in Thea’s mind.

      Something about Rhysand stealing her on the day of her wedding to the Spring Court High Lord. There had been a number of theories concerning _that_ matter but none of them seemed to fit as he looked to the stunning female holding his hand. All that Thea truly knew was that Hybern had allied with Vallahan, Montsere, and other countries of the continent against Prythian. Her hope of escape had vanished as quickly as it had come. However, the continental countries soon turned on each other and the alliance dissolved. Thea remembered one particular night at the tavern when she overheard a hooded stranger speak of the soldiers he had seen amassing on the Vallahan-Montsere border.

      Without the continental alliance, the Hybern army was massacred by a united Prythian front. Some said that it was Rhysand who killed the king personally, others said it was another demon: a fae called Nesta. Whatever the story was, it didn’t explain why the monster of the Night Court was here.

      “How could you ever think I would just stand here and listen, Helion?” Thessalia nearly spat in her High Lord’s face. “I watched as this demon ravaged the minds of _our_ court, I watched as he serviced that bitch for _fifty years_. He deserves to rot for eter-”

      “I _think-_ ” Feyre snapped- “that it’s your turn to shut up and listen. As someone who saved your ass twice, you owe me that.” Thea’s mother was livid but allowed her to continue.

      Thea stared as Feyre began to tell them a tale concerning wolves, trials, human queens, a cauldron and a book. It was an astounding story, one that Thea would have loved to read, that rang true on the faces of the Night Court.

      Thea had learned to read faces during her time working at the tavern and while the faces of the Night Court fae revealed little, there was the glimmer of pride in their eyes. It was enough for her to understand the protective shift towards Rhysand, though it was obvious by the dark power that rippled off of him that he was the most powerful fae Thea had met.

      “I believe you.”

      Feyre had just finished her story when Thea spoke. The room looked at her and she felt the heat of their glances. Color rose to her cheeks but she repeated herself.

      “I believe you.”

      “Thank you.” Rhysand spoke for the first time. “I believe your mother is beginning to believe us, too.” He smirked at his mate, for Feyre had cleared that matter up, and walked over to where Helion had been leaning against the wall. Thessalia’s arms were tightly folded and her jaw was still set but her eyes no longer gleamed with manic fury.

      “What was the point of telling us?” Her voice was flat. “Surely, two High Lords and one High Lady have more to do than pour their hearts out to a grieving widow.”

      Thea looked up, her mother had a point. Why were they here?

      Helion shifted off the wall and cleared his throat, “There may be trouble where the season courts are concerned. Now that Hybern has no king and the continental territories anxiously watch their own borders, there has been the predicament over Spring and Autumn Courts. Tamlin’s court was devastated by Hybern and refugees fled into Lord Beron’s territory once they realized it was too dangerous to stay. The influx of refugees-particularly Spring Court refugees- has Beron petitioning for a change in territory lines. There has even been mention of abolishing Spring Court altogether-”

      “It was Tamlin’s pride that cursed us all.” Thessalia’s voice was low and baleful.

      “Regardless,” Helion continued, “It’s been agreed that a larger Autumn Court opposes the interests of all other courts. However, there was a-” Helion looked to a grinning Rhysand and a slightly pink but defiant Feyre- “an incident at the last High Lords-”

      “-and Lady,” the winged fae on Feyre’s right interjected.

      “Apologies, Cassian. There was an incident at the last High Lords and _Lady_ council and we’re hesitant to meet so soon after. Feelings between the Autumn Court and the Night Court have been high and we’re looking to alleviate tension before Prythian falls to internal conflict. Our courts are so distrusting of each other. For good reason, I might add. But it was our division that made it so easy for, first, Amarantha to enslave us and then Hybern to invade us. Perhaps, if we had trusted each other more there would not have been this period of misery.” Helion’s voice became soft and musing. “Perhaps, we can prevent another period of similar agony. I have proposed a… creative solution to the distrust that has built up between the courts for so long. It would involve the younger fae. Like your daughter, Thea. Now before you leave -yes, I know that look Thessalia- I’d like you to listen to this.

      "Older fae are far too wary. We’ve been entrenched in the politics of our forefathers. Many of us fought in the wars against the mortal lands. This world is of our creation. Mortals live a fraction of our lifespan and remember so little. Our memories have controlled us, taken away whatever fellowship we might feel for each other. Younger fae have no such problem. Many only know the terror Amarantha inflicted rather than Prythian’s extensive history of political maneuvers and double-crossing. They do not have the memories we possess. Instead, they have the momentum to move forward into a new age, one where our courts are not enemies to one another. We-” He gestured towards the room- “will be sending fae into each other’s courts to build relationships between our two territories.

      "Some courts see this as yet another maneuver for power. To change alliances of young fae. The Night Court and our own court are willing to put my idea on trial, to show the potential of a united Prythian.” Helion stepped closed to Thessalia. “Everyone watched as your husband and son were killed at the hands of Rhysand- who has assured me they felt no pain. Who better to show that we can move past Under the Mountain than your family? If Thea was to live with them for a time, it would show all of Prythian that there is potential to grow out of our tragedies. Your daughter could become the picture of a better world.” Helion now looked to Thea.

      She was breathing heavily. _The Night Court? Live at the Night Court?_ Had she heard them right? Feyre had made Velaris sound almost holy in her tale but Thea had just made it back. Her body trembled. _Fear or anticipation?_ She wondered. Whatever emotion shook her body fared inconsequential to the shock at her mother’s quick answer.

      “I see the merit of the idea.” The lady’s face still was stone but her tone turned thoughtful, “It might be for the best.”

      Thea’s heart broke a little at the ease with which Thessalia was willing to part with her. Perhaps, it was too painful having Thea around. Or perhaps the shame of Thea’s past in Vallahan had finally borne down on her mother. Disgrace washed through her and her eyes stung.

      “And what do you have to say?”

      It took a beat before Thea realized the male in the shadows had spoken. A beat more before she realized he’d been talking to her. It was the first time a request or question had been directed towards her.

      “I think,” She peered hard at his face, “that it’s something I could try out.” Another beat. “Do you have a library?”

      A hint of amusement tugged at the male’s lips and he nodded.

      “What Azriel means to say is that we have many libraries.” Rhysand said. “I think you’ll find Velaris very comfortable, Thea.”

      She hazarded a timid smile at the High Lord, “When would we leave?”

      “Whenever you feel ready.” Feyre’s voice was a touch gentler than before.


	4. Chapter 4

50 years previously

_          It had been an uncommonly bright day, when Thea had met Torrin in Roda, one of Vallahan’s port cities. Blinking in the sun, Thea had watched a fading ship on the horizon. The briny wind stirred her dark hair out of its braid but she took no notice for her thoughts remained upon the recently departed ship. It was the same boat her mother had left on three weeks ago. It was supposed to have brought her back. The female turned and walked back to the inn, thinking of her mother. _

_          Weeks ago, after a fortnight of waiting for her husband and son in an inn bursting to the seams with other Pythian refugees, Thessalia could no longer bear the anxiety. They were supposed to have arrived only a few days after Thessalia and Thea. A week in, mother and daughter had attributed their absence to the notoriously poor weather along Vallahan’s coast.  But two weeks? Two weeks meant something else. _

_          “They should have come by now.” Thea had woken to her mother packing on their fifteenth day in Vallahan’s coastal city. “Something’s wrong.” Slipping out from underneath the thin quilt, her daughter blinked uncomprehendingly. _

_          “You’re leaving?” A beat. Thessalia said nothing. “Back to Prythian?” _

_          The answer came low and resolute. “Yes.”  _

_          The fines lines around the lady’s eyes and mouth had become more pronounced the past two weeks, Thea thought. She wondered if the same creases settled between her own brows. _

_          “Do you want me to come with you?” The young female stared imploringly at her mother. How was she to remain alone in this foreign country? Would her mother truly brave Amarantha’s curse after they had just escaped? _

_          Thessalia didn’t pause as she continued to fold what little amount of clothes she had into her leather bag, “No. Wait for us here. If they arrive after I’ve left, I’ll need you to tell them I went back." _

_          “Mother, you can’t-“ Finally, Thessalia looked up from her bag. Her mouth was hard and set. _

_          “I’m going, Thea. I just…I cannot just sit here and not know. I can’t.” Thessalia shut the bag, hung it across her shoulder and headed towards the door. In the face of her mother’s resolution, Thea watched her mother, heart low and heavy. Looking down, the lady stayed her hand on the door handle. “I’ve left all the money you need in the nightstand. We’ll return well before you run out. You understand?” _

_          In truth, Thea barely had a handle on the stilted conversation but she knew better than to say no to her mother. For the first time since they left their home in the Day Court, Thessalia searched her daughter’s face.  _

_          Whatever she found was enough to justify opening the door and walking out.  _

_          “Wait.” Thea rose from her bed and followed her mother into the hallway, “Please stay. If you don’t come back, I don’t-I can’t… I need you, too.” Her lips parted in trepidation, eyes wide and shining.  _

_          Only the crease between her mother’s brow changed on that stone face. “I’ll be back before you know it.” And with that, she eased out of Thea’s grasp and walked away.  _

_          Everyday since then, Thea had spent her days at the docks, waiting. However, the last shipload of refugees had come eighteen days ago and then stopped. One older male stepping off the ship had told Thea that Amarantha’s forces had blocked the borders, including the eastern seaboard. These refugees had made it out by the skin of their teeth. _

_          But still, Thea waited. Her anxious dockside vigil did not go unnoticed. One male-broad and wavy blonde- could often be seen watching her. Locals steered clear of his deep-set, steel eyes, they said that he was unsettling. The slick watchfulness of his eyes had mothers and father alike clutching their children’s hands that much tighter. Perhaps, if Thea had not been staring at where sea met horizon, she might have taken notice of his assessing gaze. She might have noticed that he followed her home every night. That he knew her routine as well as she knew the dock schedules. That he watched her read by candlelight on those dark, lonely nights. That he knew exactly when her money had run out. And when she had been tossed out of the inn with nothing but her bag full of books, it was the grey-eyed male who had seemed Mother-sent.  _

_          “I didn’t realize someone could love books so much.” Kneeling to collect her strewn about bag, Thea looked up sharply to find someone blocking the sunlight. She said nothing, partially due to the large sob she kept sequestered in her chest. “Would you like some help?” She nodded, tears spilling over. The grey-eyed man bent down and collected the scattered books, smiling at his prey. _

_          “Thank you.” Thea managed, mopping her wet cheeks with a sleeve. The naive fae mistook his carnivorous grin for kindness. “You don’t need to do that.” _

_          “It’s my pleasure.” He absolutely purred. “It’s Torrin, by the way.” _

_          Thea was beyond comprehension. _

_          “My name. It’s Torrin.” _

_          “Th-thea.” She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. _

_          Another smile. _

_          “What a lovely name, Thea. Is there somewhere I can accompany you to? You don’t seem to be a state to travel alone, not with the dangerous sorts that hang around docks.” This only released the sob that had built up in her chest. Heaving, she crumpled into a heap on the rocky ground. Her body wracked, weeping, could no longer stay whole. Not while she had lost her home, her land, her family, and now the tiny room in the inn. With every sucking breath, she fell deeper into the black hole that had threatened to swallow her this past month.  _

_          “I have-” her throat closed up. “I have nowhere. I am nothing and I have-” she choked on her own spit and mucus, “no one.” Torrin gripped Thea’s chin and examined her. The black in his chest grew and delighted at the pitiful sight beneath him. This was going to be easy. _

_          “I know a place.” And the luring began. “There’s a tavern three days south of here. I know the owner. Last I heard, he was in need of a barmaid. The job is supposed to come with room and board.” His voice was deceptively soft as he cleaned her face up. _

_          Thea sobbed harder. How was her family going to find her if she didn’t remain here? If they were still alive. Oh gods. Darkness bled into the edges of her vision.  _

_          The blonde demon continued to purr into her ear, “Come, dear Thea. I’ll make sure you have somewhere to lay that pretty head. I was headed that way with a group of mine. We’ll take you there. Free of charge, of course.” Torrin hefted Thea to her feet and lay a hand on the small of her back. She leaned into his support wearily. The world had leached so much her. _

_          Now, it was clear to see to anyone watching that whatever lay three days south of Roda was far worse than whatever Roda had to offer. But no one was watching and Thea was tired.  _


	5. Chapter 5

_            Thea did not remember the journey to the tavern. Indeed, once Torrin had fed Thea a dinner consisting of sickeningly sweet tea and warm bread, Thea remember nothing at all save an enveloping darkness.  _

_            She woke up days later in a dark, squalid room. Opening her eyes, she put a hand to her throbbing head. Why was she here? Why did feel so disoriented? Where was she? Her bones ached as she sat up and studied the room around her. There were no windows and one door. A pot lay in the corner. Thea looked at it quizzically and moved to peer inside.  _

_            The horrid smell of urine gagged her and she felt the need to vomit. Was she meant to relieve herself in it? Disgusted, she made for the door only to find it bolted from the other side. Why was she locked in? Where was Tor-she stopped.  _ Torrin _. He was the last thing she remembered. He had served her that horrible tea.  _

_            Oh gods, he had drugged her. But why? What was she doing here? She had no money and no family to pay for a ransom. Her home land was in tatters, snatched by Amarantha. She simply had nothing to give. Her right hand twisted around her left ring-finger.  _ Her’s mother’s ring.  _ It was gone. Panic rising in her chest, compelled her to slap her hands against the door maniacally. She started to yell shrilly. _

_            “TORRIN? Is anybody there? Hey! HEY, SOMEBODY.” Approaching footsteps cautioned her away from the door. She backed into the bedpost and clutched it, petrified. The door opened. Standing in the dim light of the hallway was a tall fae. He was broad-shouldered, strong, and menacing.  _

_            “Torrin left, I’m afraid.” The male leaned against the door frame, assessing Thea’s shaking figure. “Come into the light, lamb. I’d like to see you better.” His voice was that of a musing cat, it turned Thea’s gut into ice. “Now.” What sort of man would order her around?  _

_            Thea was still trying to make sense of everything when the man strided forward and jerked Thea into the light of the hallway. Her heart pounded against her veins and sounds became distant as the male leered over her. His gaze started from Thea’s face and slowly travelled south, taking in every curve of her body. No one had ever dared look at her like this in her home. Coarse hands gripped her by the shoulders, turned her around and thrust her against the wall. Pinned against the rough wood, Thea could feel him scrutinizing her from the back. A hollow realization dawned on her. Like every vulnerable fae before her, she did have something to give. Or rather, something to take. _

_            She was abruptly turned around again. The male’s head leaned forward, blocking out any light. His hands trailed down Thea’s arms and grasped her wrist. He brought them up to her shoulders and pressed his weight into hers. Thea’s eyes pricked with tears as he brought his face to her neck and inhaled deeply.  _

_            Relief broke over her as he stepped back in disgust and released her. “You smell like shit.” _

_            She said nothing and stared at the ground. What could she say? She had no leverage, nothing to barter her freedom with. She couldn’t say that she was formerly nobility of a ruined world. That her family was most likely dead or suffering at the hands of Amarantha. That she had no money and nowhere to go. Thea had nothing. Thea was nobody.  _

_            It was why the powerful preyed on refugees. Who would miss someone had nothing and was nobody.  _

_            “There’s a bath in the next room. Use it. I can’t have you scaring away customers smelling like the back end of a donkey.” _

_            “Customers?” Thea’s voice came out as small as she felt. _

_            “You’re to be my new barmaid.” The male smiled coolly. “Among other things.” Thea’s stomach managed to sink even further. “Welcome to Herrod’s, your new home.”  _

_            He shut the door. _

***

_            The first couple of months at the tavern came only to Thea in glimpses. Herrod had drugged all of her meals, laced them with something that made her feel heavy and far away. Initially, she had refused to eat anything. For two days, she neither ate nor drank. She was determined to either starve to death. Herrod couldn’t whore her out if she were dead. The thought became her mantra even as her energy withered into nothing.  _

_            Regardless of her diminished body and mind, she still spat out the sweet drink Herrod tried to forced down her throat. Finally, darkness webbed the corners of her vision and she slept at the end of the second day. Something must have happened while she slept for the next few months were a blur. Anything that she did remember during that time was like watching a nightmare from small window in the dark corner of her soul. Early on, she had decided it was a mercy that she remembered so little of those months. A small mercy in an ocean of misery for all other memories managed to stay perfectly preserved. _

_            Once he decided that she no longer needed the sedative, Herrod put chains around Thea’s ankles. They were just long enough that she could walk small, torturous strides but not long enough to run. Her skin had been rubbed raw by the end of the first day, strips of rough, red skin circled her ankles. Years to come would see scars where the manacles had grated against blistered flesh.  _

_            The first time Thea ran, Herrod beat her where others could not see. Some people have a way of doing that-of a special knack for finding hidden, soft parts that trigger hideous amounts of pain. Herrod had been one of those people.  _

_            Yet, the thing that broke Thea wasn’t the beatings or the chains, it was the fae that came through the tavern and saw her and did nothing. Those who saw the scars, the faint bruises, the dim eyes then quietly paid their coin and left despite the plea in her eyes. Those who saw the evidence of cruelty and did nothing-they allowed the oppressed to be the collateral of their own fear. It seemed a veil had been lifted from her eyes and she saw that the ordinary people she had taken to be good at their core were, indeed, cowards.  _


End file.
